Nourish Goes to Guatemala

By Catarina Saraiva

The Quetzal, Guatemala’s enigmatic and rare national bird, thrives in the hands of ecstatic 8-year-olds. I discovered this little-known fact at a small school in the country’s second biggest city.

Although the Quetzal is the national symbol, represented on everything from the currency (called Quetzales) to city names, much of its natural habitat has been destroyed by human growth. This bird can’t be seen in zoos, as it simply can’t survive in captivity – a pretty sweet trait for a national symbol, huh?

We left beautiful Lake Atitlán yesterday for Quetzaltenango (aka Xela), where we visited an alternative school run by Guatemala’s first Ashoku Fellow. Jorge Chojolán, the school’s founder and director, spoke to us last night about the need for innovation in his country’s education system. He told us only one out of every ten children finishes high school here.

At the Colegio Miguel Ángel Asturias, however, children from kindergarten through the first year of high school learn from teachers who use practical methods for engaging young minds.

Patty, Jorge’s 18-year-old daughter who’s already in medical school, told me that she remembers most of her history lessons from the Colegio because her teachers took their classes on field trips to the actual locations of the historical events. Instead of simply teaching math by memorization, kids are taught to think of how many candies they can buy if they only have a certain amount of money, Patty said. This way, the material has relevance to their daily lives.

After a hearty breakfast at our Catholic hostel early this morning, the troop left for the Colegio, armed to visit classes and offer any lessons the kids might enjoy. We were one man down, as Nick struggled through the deadly Dengue Fever (or maybe just a stomach ache).

At the school, we were greeted by Ryan Richards, a Juniata College graduate who’s dedicating two years of his life to working with the Colegio, mentored by Jorge. Jorge organized us according to our skills and led us to our classrooms. I was to sit in on Paola’s second grade class. The twenty or so kids were learning about shading in art, but quickly became far more interested in the camera. I was filming them as they were coloring, but they gradually crowded around this new device.

After we spent about half an hour in the classrooms, Jorge rang the bell for recess. The kids had an intense championship soccer game to play. Off they went, complete with an older student serving as the referee. Teachers shouted tactics from the side-line and other children screamed their team’s name. These kids are the future of Guatemalan soccer, as I have no doubt they’ll take the country to the World Cup. Upon arrival to Quetzaltenango yesterday, our boys played against some middle schoolers in a heated game. They “tied…” yeah right. The kids probably got a little slack at the end, feeling sorry for their guests.

Some of the school’s team names include “Clean environment,” “Pumas no longer extinct” and “Super rights,” true to the school’s extensive and progressive curriculum.

The Colegio is built like most buildings here in Guatemala, with a central, open-aired courtyard. At the school, this courtyard is paved and serves as the soccer field and basketball court.

We went back into our classrooms after the soccer game, this time to teach. I spent a good amount of time teaching the 8-year-olds how to fold paper Quetzals. I basically had them make paper cranes, bending the tail downwards to replicate the bird’s long tail feathers.

After they colored their birds, Jorge called for a school-wide assembly. The children all sang us their school song, “queremos paz y libertad en nuestro mundo” (we want peace and liberty in our world). Of course, some of sang our school songs as well and, at the childrens’ eager pleas, Carlos brought out the guitar for some further entertainment.

After the assembly we broke for lunch. Nick, fully recovered from his bout with the Dengue Fever, joined the rest of us and Ryan for a wonderful meal of salpicon (spiced shredded beef) and horchata (rice milk with cinnamon and sugar).

Ah, paradise…

 By Russ Spitler

Today was our second day in Posada Jaibalito, the hostel on the shores of Lake Atitlan. Our little clan took its Sabbath a day late this week, since all we did was eat, read, journal, hike, and swim. We engaged in “team building” exercises, which equated to making fools of ourselves in front of some Jaibalitans fishing on the pier next to us. It was great fun.

Last night I was determined to watch the sun rise over Central America’s deepest lake. I have been waking up pretty early without electrical assistance since I have been here, so I thought getting up at 5:00 wouldn’t be too much of a stretch. I was right; “Buenos dias” replied the man carrying wood through Jaibalito’s sidewalk, shrouded in the darkness still covering the nearby volcanoes. I set up shop with the camcorder on a pier nearby and waited for the engaging pink light to arrive. Presto, I made contact with the staggering surroundings and giggling children around me. What an experience.

I returned to home and met Herb, a San Franciscan who has spent his life in emergency medicine. He has great stories about his time in Afghanistan (pre-Soviet invasion), Bosnia, Sri Lanka and Indonesia after the tsunami, Katrina, etc. He asked me if I minded listening to his stories. They were too fascinating to miss. I enjoyed meeting Herb. He told me I should get involved helping in crisis areas. “It’s easy. You just look around and see what needs to be done and start. I’ve worked with a bunch of people like you.” We’ll see what the future holds.

Herb and I looked at a few of the gorgeous plants in Hans’ garden. This led us to eventually try an orange banana. There are 30 varieties of banana in the world, but only two are exported to the U.S. Yesterday I tried a two inch long banana. Each variation tasted different from the kind back home. Oh the joys traveling brings. The rest of the day held more amazing comida. For $1.50 I ate one of the best breakfasts I have ever experienced. Very nice!!

The other highlight of today, besides not doing much of anything, was hiking for about 15 minutes with Carlos, Cat, and Nick to find a sweet swimming hole. The views proved to be out of this world and there was a lot of cool vegetation on the path. Eventually our little band arrived at a destination we approved worthy. We passed through the yard of a house owned by Carlos’ mother’s former boss. It was a beautiful place. Luckily while swimming I had an epiphany: opening my eyes under water. There wasn’t much to see, but the water was an awesome shade of blue, and sunlight streamed through the waves, bouncing around below the surface to put on a show more dazzling than any human form of entertainment could ever provide.

I should write something deep and philosophical, something along the lines of the conversation most of us had last night as avocados fell onto the kitchen’s roof, making a huge racket. However I am an individual. I have feelings. These feelings matter because, gosh darn it, people just like me. You should realize that I am still wearing my bathing suit, and I am perfectly happy to just ramble on right now and make up Happy Thoughts, à la Jack Handy. One item of note that I cognated today was the idea of continuity. Even though there are a lot of differences between here and home, there are many things that are the same. People want the same things: to provide for their family’s needs, to raise their children well, to feel a sense of accomplishment after achieving a goal, etc. The waves still roll in the same pattern as they do in North America, the same sun still governs our activities, food still can taste good or bad. You get the idea. I have been very slack about my reading, so I will do some now. Buenos noches!!

By Erin Mulfinger

Today we woke up at the Molina to a wonderful breakfast and a presentation about FUDI, a local organization working to promote schools, agriculture, and health. We then were taken on a tour of the mill, given by Mario Gutierrez, the manager for the past five years.

Following that, we went on a hike in the mountainous woods behind the mill. Wow. The air seemed so fresh, so clean, and the vegetation so lush and green. There was a clear path we followed up the mountain, and then down the mountain.

For lunch we were served estofado, a traditional dish that mixes different meats and spices, and then we were off! Due to issues with transportation (see previous posts) we were without a second car. However, we did have the use of a pickup truck and Pavak and Russ happily volunteered to ride in the bed in the hopes of photo opportunities. It began to rain as the cars were loaded, and they both resourcefully put on ponchos and jumped in the truck. The rain stopped pretty quickly, and after a few minutes on the road we were stopped by some roadwork. Children selling fruit, candy, soda, etc. walked by, and some of us ate fresh mango and bananitos de oro. After a curvy and bumpy trip we arrived in Panajachel, and took a boat to Jaibalito.

Carlos' cousin, Sofia, lives here in Jaibalito and she was telling us about the current state of education. In the areas surrounding the lake, teachers have been on strike for two months now. Two months children have not been going to school! Sofia said the reasons for the strike have been many, but most likely all stem from the fact that teachers' salaries are some of the lowest in the country. We will be hearing much more about education in Guatemala from Colegio Miguel Angel Asturias tomorrow, and I hope to really gain an understanding of the entire system, and the differences in opportunities for education between Guatemala and the United States.

By Steve Mullaney

No, I know what you’re thinking—I didn’t get arrested. Yet. (Just kidding Mom and Dad). Our car broke down on the side of the road in rural Guatemala. We were stranded for a while and have no clue what we’re doing tomorrow or for the rest of the trip as far as transportation goes. The police had to help us—and only because we were in danger of getting hit by other cars or robbed if we were to stay where we were at. Oh, and by the way, did I mention that at the end of the day nobody panicked and this was universally viewed as an INCREDIBLY POSITIVE experience for our group to get through?

Intrigued? Well, I’ll get to that…first onto other things.

We got to meet with Community Enterprise Solutions (http://www.cesolutions.org/) which was amazing. One of the dangers of doing community-based work is going in with an expert mentality, or the assumption that everyone wants exactly what I (read: the middle class within the US) have. CES gets it, and they’re there for the long haul—building relationships and working with communities for sustainable solutions to problems which the community itself identifies. Being around people who are passionate is contagious, I know we definitely fed off of their optimism and their passion for doing the work that they do. A little clearer, (tolerance of ambiguity is such a plus for travelers), we left to visit Maya Pedal (http://www.mayapedal.org/), another group which Nourish is indirectly partnered with.

Maya Pedal is insane. You should just go to their website, there’s no other way to really describe them. Essentially, this man builds things like blenders, washing machines and water pumps out of old bicycles. How cool is that?

From there we were back on the road to get to Carlos Toriello’s house to spend the night, when one of the cars broke down by the side of the road. Reflecting on the experience, it was almost as if it were a hokey hippy-dippy trustwalks-in-the-woods exercise—only effective. Carlos assured me he did not sabotage his car so that we would bond.

Nobody panicked or brought down morale, everyone pitched in whether it was looking for rocks to keep wheels from slipping, using mechanical skills to diagnose the car or keeping spirits up with jokes. Long story short, everything and everyone made it—although I was transported up a hill by the Guatemalan police. As we regrouped I offered to ride with Carlos in the broken car (it had since suddenly come back to life, sort of) and it was decided that Pavak, the one with the most car skills, would go with Carlos. I quipped, “That’s probably a good choice; I’m an English major, the best that I could do if the car broke again would be to write a poem about the situation.” Pavak laughed and told me to actually write the poem. I did, and it is the high-water mark of American poetry.

An elegy for Carlos Toriello and Steve Mullaney who died writing this poem instead of fixing the car

As plumes of smoke exploded
and burning rubber smells flash flooded the area
so you taste toxins with every breath
Steve Mullaney quibbled with a notebook at the side of the road
counting syllables for a poem which would most certainly not fix the car.

Alone, Carlos works his pair of cell phones
thumbs dancing across the keys
punching out SOS and mayday
in frantic attempts to save the sluggish car.

“Steve, put rocks behind the wheels,” Carlitos urged the bookish frump.
however the only things Steve hauled were mixed metaphors
and awkward juxtapositions
into a hasty haiku.

Five, seven, five.
The haiku, that Japanese dabbling over which Steve spent sweat
ignoring Carlitos’ request to work on vain scratchings.

“Did you put rocks behind the tires?” Carlitos asked,
dripping with exasperation.

“Yes!” Steve exclaimed.
Carlos stuck his head neath the car
and was decapitated as the car rolled backwards
spreading guts like a Quentin Tarrantino wet dream
and tumbled down the hill into the traffic below.
Whereupon, Carlos’ sad body was smeared
across the highway
by a bus.

“Whoops.” Steve thought.
And justified in his head how the ‘yes’ referred to excitement
over finishing the poem
not an affirmative celebrating rocks under tires.

With that, Steve read his poem aloud.
To nobody in particular.

“Ahem.”

A Haiku Explaining our Unfortunate Situation

By Steve Mullaney

We are stuck right here.
I wish that the car would work.
That really sucks. Dude.

At this point, God himself shook the clouds off his sneakers
and came down to earth
to correct this ironic injustice,
and berate Steve for his rotten poem.

With one swift motion God smote Steve
and his accursed atoms spread in the four directions
to avenge Carlos Toriello
and punish Steve Mullaney
who died writing a poem
instead of fixing the car.

We ate dinner. We reflected. We bonded. The Guatemala Group became the Guatemala Team, and what could have been a disastrous experience was transformed into one which will catalyze us towards our goal.

By Linda Quiquivix

We’ve arrived!

Together. In one piece. Luggage intact.

Which is more than I can say for U.S. airports. Of all the places in the “third world” I’ve ever traveled to, I’ve never any problem with luggage. The U.S. wins the award for efficiency when it comes to putting my luggage on the wrong flights.

And twice!

But enough about the U.S. We’re in Guatemala! Nine of us. All university students. We’re here to save the world and we’re not leaving until it’s saved.

All of it.

Our first meal: Pollo Campero! Guatemala’s answer to McDonalds – a quite formidable answer, at that. It’s an enormous international chain with restaurants in almost every Central American country, Mexico, the U.S., Ecuador, Spain, and even Indonesia.

Indonesia.

Eating at Pollo Campero is an absolute must for anyone seeking the “authentic” Guatemalan experience. If you’re a vegetarian (as are Pavak and myself) you can chomp down on Campero’s french fries. The ketchup is sweet. It’s not quite the same experience, of course, but one that can be lived vicariously through your carnivorous, chicken lovin’ friends.

And plenty of them on this trip we have.

Carlos’ grandfather, Eddie, hosted our first night in his lovely home. There, we were treated to frijoles revueltos (refried black beans), handmade corn tortillas, and guacamole (in Guatemala, it’s pronounced without the last syllable: “wah-kah-MOL”).

Guatemalans like to shorten words a lot.

Guate’s national beer, Gallo (in conjunction with every nation’s national soft drink, Coca-Cola) helped us wash it all down.

We expect to have many more encounters with the aforementioned foods throughout the remainder of the five week-trip. (Five weeks is exactly how long it takes to save a world, in case you’ve always wondered.)

This morning, Eddie treated us to breakfast. Pollo Campero! (The menu is totally different in the morning – it’s a whole new experience.) While driving to breakfast we experienced traffic slow down on Avenida de las Americas – protesters – voicing their anger at the government’s (lack of) response to the recent Banco de Comercio scandal which robbed many of their savings.

The Banco de Comercio scandal involves sleazy bankers, off-shore accounts, unsuspecting customers who sign up without reading the fine print. The bank had served as a proxy, depositing customers’ money in off-shore banks instead of in the actual bank.
The bank collapsed at the beginning of the year; as did its directors; as did the off-shore dough.

Its customers have no recourse. Because their deposits were technically made to go into off-shore banks (something they consented to by not reading the fine print when they opened their accounts), it made their accounts ineligible for coverage through Guatemala’s FDIC-like – an insurance which covers up to 20,000 quetzals or, approximately 2,729 dollars and 48 cents.

(The current exchange rate: Q7.95 = $1.00.)

The way the government sees it, it’s the customers’ own fault. Documents, contracts, fine print – the institutionalization of trust has rendered the customers guilty. Guilty of having too much trust in, and unawareness of, the banking system.

This is all making me realize that I never read the fine print for anything. I have no idea how my banks operate. They’re all credit unions – market socialism where the members are all owners – so I trust them. Is this bad? Do I trust them too much? When I make deposits, am I technically making them in off-shore banks? Would that make them ineligible for FDIC?

Yikes.

This isn’t the first financial crisis Guatemala has experienced in recent months. The country’s fourth largest bank, BanCafe went under at the height of the holiday season last year.

Soon after, there was a shortage of paper money. Enough of the new bills to replace the old, worn bills hadn’t been ordered. Unless you had a credit card, you were SOL. ATM machines were inoperable. I visited here in January, arriving without any cash. I’d relied on the ATM system so often. It had never done me wrong. But this last time, I was unable to make any withdrawals. Thank goodness I had family to house me, feed me, and even spot me. (Crap, I still owe my brother 80 bucks for that bus ticket to Mexico.)

It’s only months later, and now Banco de Comercio collapses.

It amazes me how little coverage Guatemala’s financial woes receive in the international news. You’d be hard-pressed to find any online (in English, anyway). There’s one Reuters story about it from January, nothing on the BBC (unless I’m not searching correctly but I promise you, I’m a wiz at this kind of stuff). There’s nothing in the L.A. times (a place which boasts the largest Guatemalan population outside of Guatemala). And there’s nothing to be found in the news search machine that is Lexis Nexis!

(Am I doing this wrong? Someone prove me wrong, please.)

It’s making me wonder if any of this is even real. I mean, I’m seeing it, but if it’s not on the English-speaking Internet world does it not exist?

It’s on the English-speaking Internet world now.

Luckily, we had Carlos’ grandfather, Eddie to sort this all out. Eddie is the former director of Guatemala’s second largest bank, G &T Continental. He’s a fountain of knowledge on the country’s banking industry, politics, history – basically, he’s hours of stimulating conversation. So much so, that I’ve invited myself over to grill him for invaluable information come dissertation fieldwork time.

And he said “yes”. He had no choice not to.

Next journal entry: the trials and tribulations nine university students experience while being forced – forced! – to take up lodging in a mansion in Antigua complete with swimming pool, free wi-fi, and a garden in every shower (no lie).

Hi everyone,

I assume everyone has arrived safe and sound in Guatemala? Let us know when you do! Please invite friends and family to view the blog as I am sure they are interested in reading about your travels. If you need to be added to the blog as an author so you can create posts, please let Carlos or me know and we'll add you right away.

Cheers,
Joel

Hello everyone,

this blog will eventually turn into our group journal while we are in Guatemala. You won't need to start posting until we actually get to Guatemala, but eventually everyone will be posting on it.

The idea behind it being that we want to have a common space where everyone shares their thoughts during the project. Each day a different person will be in charge of updating the blog in order to include what happened as well as the discussions and ideas that we discuss.

This is the first time a Nourish team will be doing this and I think it is very important. Not only will this space be used to update our friends and family all over the world about what we are doing in AcTxumbal, but it will also spur discussion on the problems that we encounter. I expect us to discuss the importance of international development, sustainable development, social entrepreneurship, education and economic opportunity all in the context of student engagement.

I believe that we have a responsibility to ourselves as well as the people that we are working for to keep this updated and current. This will be the only public record about our work which makes it incredibly important because it holds our work to a public standard. I think that too often people engage in this kind of work without sharing their experiences with the world. Not only is this selfish, but it is also irresponsible considering the impact that we will have on the lives of the AcTxumbal community.

I look forward to reading your thoughts and having at the end of the project a literary account that we can all keep forever to remember the moments that our memory forgets.

Peace